


Getaway

by teacupsandspoons



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Origins, Teen John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 09:25:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10964376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandspoons/pseuds/teacupsandspoons
Summary: short fic about John's Past





	Getaway

John Watson carefully composed his face while he zipped up his jacket, he didn’t need his mother worrying any more than she already was. When John got the opportunity to attend St. Barts he cried right along with his mother about how much he would miss her, but overall he was secretly very happy to be leaving home, not just to be attending a better school, but to get away from his life here. His mother helped him load his things into the car, smiling and talking about all the amazing opportunities John would have, but it only took half of the short ride to the train station before she was silently crying. John felt suffocated, when they arrived at the station, it was all he could do not to jump out of the car. As it was he made as little eye contact with his mother as possible as they loaded his bag onto the train that would take him far far away from london. Before departure he hugged his mother goodbye, and did feel sad about leaving, though his sadness was easily taken over by his guilt over how happy he was too getaway. 

After getting settled in his carriage he could still see his mother on the platform crying. He watched her as the train pulled out of the station. He felt terrible about it, but the truth was that we was glad to be free from his mother. Almost a year ago now there had been a knock on the door that would change John’s family. The news that his father had been killed in action took a few days to sink in for John. Longer that it had taken for his mother and sister, so he had comforted them during the first week, somehow remaining calm, by the time it really hit him, he couldn’t let it out, not when he was the only one keeping the family from collapsing. So he only cried when he was sure they couldn’t hear him. For months it was John who cleaned up and comforted his mother when she began to frequently become absent minded burning things on the stove, and dropping glasses. It was John who made sure Harriet got home safe each night after drinking herself sick, John who made her tea in the morning. At first he had been happy to help, in fact it was the only thing that made him feel better himself, knowing it is what his father would do, but now John could feel himself bubble with anger at having to take care of them, when no one was taking care of him, how self centered they were, how oblivious to John’s feelings. Did they not hear, or did they not care when John woke screaming in the night after seeing a bullet tear through his fathers caring face.

The better half of John was worried, what would his mother and sister do without him, but the rest of him didn’t care what they did as long as he wasn’t there. It wasn’t just his family he was happy to leave behind. His old school and friends we just as distasteful to him now, though at least he didn’t feel guilty about that. His school that had always been a bit of a bore became intolerable with the quit offers of teachers to “take all the time you need,” or “I’m always available if you ever need to talk.” Like hell they were. It was just what they were supposed to say.

 


End file.
